The Blood's Desire: Vignettes
by Erik'sTrueAngel
Summary: A collection of one-shots and deleted scenes surrounding The Blood's Desire. You might want to read it first so you know what's going on. New Chapter! Christine's first attempt at hunting ended unsatisfying. Now… she will unleash her demon and see how wonderful the results can be.
1. The Tragedy of Luciana

Rated: R or M

Genre: Horror/Romance/General

Summary: A collection of one-shots and deleted scenes surrounding The Blood's Desire. You might want to read it first so you know what's going on.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Phantom related. But if I did… that would be the best day ever!

A/N: Here we go! I know I said this won't be a weekly update, but I was inspired and I wanted to get this baby started! I don't know how long this is going to be, but I'm going to try and cover as much as I can from my story. Every story will be a stand-alone, but I will have some that are a two or three part story, depending on the muse and what happens to our favorite characters. I figured why not start this one from the very beginning? This one is influenced by Susan Kay's wonderful novel, but I made some changes to fit with the plot and my twisted version. Please don't forget to review!

The Blood's Desire: Vignettes

By: Erik'sTrueAngel

_Synopsis- Where Luciana becomes a vampire and searches for Erik…_

**The Tragedy of Luciana**

Selfish, vain, spoiled, and corrupted…

A seed of darkness that was waiting to bloom within this child of Italy—the youngest of Giovanni's daughters, ironically named for "light"…

Luciana.

From the moment she was born, the midwife had warned the mason that evil tainted this innocent babe and she would be the downfall of the family. There was something in her eyes, the woman had said. They knew too much… They weren't right.

Immediately, Giovanni dismissed the superstitious woman and her claims and warned her to never speak such damning words about a child ever again. Luciana was an infant, a vulnerable creature, untainted and pure. She was an angel in mortal form—rosy cheeks, sparkling violet eyes, and a mess of black hair that promised to be the silkiest when she grew older.

Unlike her siblings, Luciana was born with beauty and the midwife was jealous that her children were not born as perfect as Luciana was and she wanted to ruin her in the parents' adoring eyes.

However, the midwife's words did get to one person in the family… the mother—Isabella.

When she held her daughter, Isabella felt an unusual chill down her spine and as she looked into Luciana's eyes… there was no overwhelming feeling of love or protection in her breast. She felt… empty, hollow, _terrified_.

Yes.

She was frightened of this newborn. She believed what the midwife spoke was true and that Luciana would bring a curse upon their family. So after her husband ordered the midwife to leave, Isabella reacted violently, pushing the baby away from her and sobbing for God to have mercy and to forgive them for this unholy spawn.

Giovanni, startled and furious, roared at his wife and quickly comforted the hysterical baby. Their other children… also frightened by this display… ran off to escape the wailing cries.

That night Isabella told her husband she renounced Luciana as her daughter and refused to provide any nourishment and comfort. Her behavior to Giovanni was absurd and it didn't matter how many times he disciplined her… his wife denied the helpless baby. Even when she stood before him, her black eye radiating from her white pallor and her bloodied lip swollen, Isabella would not fulfill her motherly duty. The other children she doted on, but not the youngest. Never her…

So Giovanni had little choice in finding the proper care for Luciana on his own. The nurses and nannies he hired would inevitably be fired for one thing or another. Either they didn't hold Luciana correctly or Luciana cried at the sight of them… It would seem that no one was allowed to touch the infant, except for Giovanni. His daughter recognized him and would only allow him to nurture her. Eventually, he took that task upon himself and over the years fell deeply in love with her more and more.

Luciana was his "little light" and he defended her fiercely when everyone in his family was determined to shun her.

Even up to the moment of his wife's death, Isabella insisted that Luciana was the Devil's child. She denied the toddler the right to approach her deathbed for one final farewell and blessing. It was Giovanni that ignored her protests and brought young Luciana into the bedroom. She was only three years old, but she understood that Mama was going to go to Heaven.

He had hoped his wife would put an end to this foolish charade and accept Luciana at last. He had hoped that impending death would soften his wife's heart for the little girl and show her some love before she departed from this world.

After Giovanni ushered the children out of the room to leave Isabella with Luciana, he heard a wretched scream and ran inside to find Luciana gazing over her mother's lifeless body, her large violet eyes looking up at Giovanni as she uttered the dreadful words, "Mama's dead now Papa. We will never see her again."

Giovanni accepted the innocent way it had been spoken since it will be a long time before they were reunited; however, he chose to deny that his wife's expression, upon her death, was that of a horrified realization and her mouth stuck in a silent scream like one who just received a glimpse into an eternity of pain and agony.

He placed his hands on Luciana's shoulders and moved her away from her dead mother. As they walked past the veranda, thunder clapped followed by a deafening explosion as lightning struck the balcony, cracking the granite structure.

xxXXxx

As Luciana grew older, her beauty continued to blossom. Giovanni's other two daughters were jealous and teased her mercilessly for they had not been blessed with such appearances. They made sure not to bring attention to themselves to tempt Papa's temper. But they would make subtle comments to Luciana disguised as affectionate praises and would hide her brushes and combs.

Then one night the eldest—Bianca—woke up to find her hair had fallen off. The entire household awoke from her screams. Giovanni was stunned by this and could not fathom an explanation how it was possible for the hair to fall on its own. Yet, Sophia had insisted she had heard laughter in the night and she had seen Luciana standing over Bianca's bed.

Luciana denied she would ever do such a deed and burst into tears over her sister's accusation. Giovanni upset that Luciana was saddened, punished the other girls and told them that it must have been an act of God due to their sins.

While he whipped them, Luciana had hid herself in the shadows, all the while smiling at their plight.

But accusations such as this did not stop in the family. Even the village began to blame Luciana for any sudden problems that would arise. If Luciana walked past a neighbor's garden, then the next day, all the flowers and vegetables would wither and die. If she would pet a horse, then the creature fell ill within hours.

Word of witchcraft was whispered and Giovanni was beginning to lose business with his masonry. No one wanted to associate themselves with his work when it was possible that Luciana would come into contact with them. The only option Giovanni had to ensure her protection was to keep her locked away in the house when he went on calls.

The rest of his other children would not look after her. Now that they were all adults, they had lives of their own and would not welcome their doors for their sister. To them, Luciana was not part of their family and when this outraged Giovanni, they also closed their doors on their father as well.

It was only he and Luciana in the world. And as Giovanni struggled financially… he had little choice but to send his beloved light away so he could get back on his feet again.

Oh, how she screamed and fought when he broke the news that she was to go to a convent.

It tore his heart but what choice was there? He hated that he sunk this low and it felt like a betrayal of the gravest sort. To send Luciana away was as if he was admitting that the midwife, Isabella, and the village were right about her being evil. That if he removed Luciana from his home, then life would start to return in his business and neighbors would befriend him once again.

But he justified the action for Luciana's own benefit and safety and for their future security. He told her it had nothing to do with what the villagers thought. He was doing this for her. Her!

Yet, the damage was done.

Luciana had shouted to the heavens that her father, Giovanni, had denied her and she cursed him for his betrayal.

xxXXxx

Months passed and business began to prosper once more.

Fortune decided to smile on the old man and he was blessed with the aid of his new apprentice—a gifted boy with many talents and secrets. But that did not matter to Giovanni. Erik was special all right and he had all the skills and makings of becoming a great mason like he.

It was the stroke of luck and God's work that Giovanni found Erik in the streets, hungry and cold, that same night he sent Luciana off to the convent. Finding him was like finding a part of his soul and his guilt ebbed somewhat when he took Erik into his home and gave him new clothes and warm food in his stomach.

For a moment, Giovanni almost forgot about his woes and the unkindness he done to his daughter. Erik needed him and he needed Erik. Together, they forged an unlikely father-son bond that mended his broken heart when his children left him. Without speaking the words, Giovanni had inadvertently adopted this masked child as his own son and believed that Erik was going to be his salvation.

It all changed when Giovanni began to receive letters from Luciana about her stay. That evening he drank himself into a stupor over the neglect and abuse she suffered at the hands of the nuns. It _grieved _him to read the news, especially since she claimed of having dreadful nightmares of a man with glowing eyes watching over her.

She pleaded for him, her dearest Papa, to save her, to bring her home. She said she was not wicked and she was sorry for cursing him before and please forgive her!

Forgive her!

He could not, would not, believe his Luciana could be suffering from such heinous plight. Not in the House of God… No, it was the fanciful lettering of a young girl longing to come home and nothing more.

Yet, it did not stop him from reaching for the bottle.

And the nightmares.

Oh, the nightmares!

While Giovanni had reasoned the letters to be of a homesick child, he could not prevent himself from imagining the horrors that she wrote about. They were so vivid, so horrific, that he was second guessing the decision altogether.

Hours turned to days as Giovanni contemplated on sending for his daughter. For Erik's sake, he feared it would shock him to the point where he might leave for he never spoke about Luciana. But at the same time his own flesh and blood was calling for him. He couldn't bear to lose both so he settled on telling Erik the truth and at morning's first light… he will send for his precious Luciana. What Erik decided to do… he would support him, although he prayed the boy would stay.

As Giovanni walked past the balcony, he could not suppress the shudder that ran through his body.

xxXXxx

The blood-curdling scream and sickening thud echoed in the old man's ears. He covered his eyes and wept for the child who destroyed everything with her selfish greed.

xxXXxx

He had watched the girl fall.

He had watched the disfigured boy sob as he looked over the broken railing, muttering, "I told you not to ask… I told you not to ask me to see…"

It was a rather pitiful scene and quite climatic in the event that led to this tragedy. But the boy held no interest to him and he was relieved to watch the foul creature disappear from above.

From his fading heartbeat, the boy was leaving, most likely for good. And as for the old man who continued to weep from inside his home… he was not intending to come out any time soon to see the remains of his daughter.

Good.

Stepping out into the moonlight, he stalked over to the fallen body that lay in a heap on the stone floor. Her neck was broken, her face looking upwards, her tongue softly clicking.

She was alive… barely.

A fall like that should have killed her instantly, but luck was on his side and he knew deep down that she was right for this life. She was born to become like him, to be a creature of the night.

Ever since he heard her cries of injustice some months ago, he had to make her his Childe. He had bided his time for she was not ready to receive such a gift, too full of life she was, and now his patience had paid off. She would be receptive to this offering he was going to make her.

Getting on a bended knee, he gazed intently over her paling features and murmured:

"See how useless this life is? How short it can last? I can offer you a better life… one that will last forever and you will stay like this while everyone else grows old and dies. You would like that wouldn't you? To watch your enemies change and while you do not? I can promise you the world if you would take it. All the pleasure and joys that it has to offer. Yes… I see it in your eyes that this is what you want. Then allow me to grant you a new salvation, a new birth."

He offered his bleeding vein to her, pressing his wrist to her mouth where her lips greedily latched on his skin, licking and sucking the blood from him.

He pulled back and with his finger wiped the little bit of blood off her lips.

The sounds of approaching footsteps had him running off into the shadows once more, to shield him from sight as his handiwork unfolded.

The old man bent over to examine the corpse, his tears landing on her clothes, as he cradled her close to his heart.

He heard the soft pop of the bones mending and while the old man continued to mourn over his loss… he had not noticed the change rippling through her.

All at once she moved and gripped her father's throat, her fangs bearing as she lunged at his artery.

The old man barely knew what hit him as his screams were muffled by the gurgling of his blood pouring from his mouth.

When she finished, she dropped the body at her feet and turned towards her new Master as he stepped out to welcome her in his arms. He pulled her close to his chest, his hand tracing her lower jaw.

"Yes…" he whispered. "You will do nicely."

Fin

How's that for a start? Oh I know the part you're really looking forward to and trust me… it will come soon, but the muse wanted to get some things out about the beginning. Think of this chapter as a prequel. And I do intend on coming back to add more about Luciana's life and how she searches for Erik. There's so much ground to cover!

Next: **Bloodlust**- Erik adjusts to his horrific new lifestyle.


	2. Bloodlust

A/N: Thank you everyone for returning for some more vampire Erik yumminess! Now, the first chapter was pretty mild with the rating labeled, but this one… definitely lives up to the M name. I want to add… please read this at your discretion. There might be some scenes that could be difficult to stomach (at least that's how my friends describe my writing sometimes but I don't know what they mean *bats eyes innocently*) and yeah… I did have some fun with the imagery. I'm a horror fangirl at heart so what can you expect? Please don't forget to review!

And Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! As for me… I'm going to be getting ready to work the midnight shift Thursday night. Yay!

_Synopsis- Erik discovers that he is no longer human…_

**Bloodlust**

Clarity slowly began to return to him.

The first thing he could recall was the rotten coppery stench… And the warm metallic taste that tasted sweeter than any elixir he ever had.

Then he felt something sticky and as he gazed down at his hands… he gasped in horror to see them dripping in blood, his clothes spattered with blood and other human articles.

Bile began to rise in his throat, but the initial feeling to vomit never came to pass, and instead he let out a ragged choked sound. It was rather ironic considering he had committed various murders over the decades and never once felt ill about doing them, yet now… the sight of so much blood on his person made him dreadfully ill.

What had happened?

When the first wave of shock wore off, Erik was able to take in more of his surroundings… and to see from who the blood came from.

What greeted his sight… he trembled all over, the word "no" repeating on his lips.

Carnage.

That was the only way to describe the scene.

There was a male torso in the middle of the room; the head completely severed and bashed in from ferocious strength laid in a bloody pool beside the naked chest; the stomach was torn and ripped, the organs pulled out in a messy tangle of knots, and the limbs had also been scattered about the room.

It was like a wild animal had ravaged the poor devil.

But it was a different sight that captured Erik's attention, one that filled him with such horror and despair that he closed his eyes and prayed it was only a terrible nightmare.

When he opened them, the same sight haunted him and he slowly shook his head, moaning low in his throat.

Christiana… his beloved Christiana… was lying at his feet. Dead.

Her face forever frozen with terror in them—her soft, blonde locks were bloodied and torn from her scalp; her throat practically was inside out, but the rest of her body remained unmolested.

All the violence was done on her partner.

Erik took a step back, stumbling backwards, as his memory flashed before his eyes.

She was in the stagehand's embrace when he broke down the door. A rage unlike any other ran through his body that he blocked the stinging feeling as he crossed the border into the apartment and leapt on the man first. With one swift punch the man was on the ground when he started to pull him apart.

Christiana had started to shout and he knew he had to silence her before he could finish and he whirled upon her… backhanding her hard that she flew against the sofa, turning it over as she fell.

He smashed the flawless, handsome face in his bare hands and dropped it beside the ravaged body before going towards the singer who was beginning to regain consciousness.

Something within him was driving him to take… to drink… And he seized her with one hand while diving towards her… his teeth biting down hard and pulling the flesh out like a tenderized piece of meat.

Any sounds she tried to make were weakened and muffled as blood sprayed over her front and face.

He then remembered how moments prior he had seen Luciana—a ghost he believed was long dead—and how she bit him and forced her hand on his lips, coating him with her blood. He remembered how he had blacked out and when he came to… she was telling him where to go and that he was to kill all who were in the apartment.

He had no control over his limbs as he obeyed the command and now… now… he felt his body was free from such power and the pain he felt earlier when entering was gone.

But nothing could change the fact that he had murdered his love and he had drunk her blood as if it were water.

Flee.

He had to flee.

Erik turned and ran from the grisly scene; the instinct to escape lest he should be discovered with the murders fueled his speed as he hurried to the opera house. He did not stop running until he was in the safety of the catacombs and upon entering his house on the lake… Erik collapsed into his coffin, sleep engulfing him.

xxXXxx

He didn't know how long he had slept, but when he woke, he was stunned to find it was evening once more.

As quickly as that knowledge entered his mind, a hunger… so primal and strong hit him so hard that Erik almost bent over in its wake.

_Feed_… was the only thought. He needed to feed to make that feeling go away.

The little amount of food he had in his home did nothing for his appetite and stirred even less interest. No… the only craving that would do was the familiar sweet taste of passion-filled blood. He couldn't even show his disgust that it had been Christiana's sweet blood that he gorged on. No, he had only one feeling now and that was to find fresh sustenance.

He quickly changed his clothes, tossing the stained ones into his lake to hide the crime he had done. He slipped on his mask and grabbed his fedora and was soon out walking the streets of Paris with hundreds of heartbeats pounding in his head.

One in particular was ringing the loudest and it was very close…

He couldn't explain what happened next, but his body knew exactly where to go and he blindly followed. An unexplainable thrill of anticipation went through him and after turning down an alley… he saw a young man staggering about thirty feet away. His nostrils picked up the cheap scent of alcohol and perfume, but above all, he smelled the sweet nectar flowing through his veins.

Preparing himself, Erik swiftly moved towards him, a soft breeze passing through him. He felt a slight stab of pain that came over his face that it jarred his mask. Erik quickly drew it off and stuffed it in his pocket before lunging at the man.

Within seconds, the body was depleted of its life and as Erik stashed the body away in the alley, he could still feel the hunger pangs.

He needed more.

xxXXxx

A week passed and so did the news of a butcher walking the streets of Paris.

A dozen corpses were found throughout the city—half were missing parts of their bodies (although to be fair… they had been struggling). People were frightened to go out at night and only the brave, the foolish, and the stupid would walk around.

Even the performers and dancers at the Opera house seemed to be more terrified of this unknown assailant than of the Opera Ghost! If they only knew that they were one in the same!

But below the world and the sunlight… Erik was coming to terms with this nocturnal lifestyle. If anything… it seemed to be quite fitting since he rarely went out during the day. He knew that if he felt tempted to go out when it was day, then it would prove to be hazardous. It was that pure instinct that aided him to return to the Opera house before the sun rise after he spent the evening indulging his bloodlust.

Did it disgust him that he only had the appetite for human blood?

In the beginning, yes. But now… it was the only taste he could find satisfaction in and he liked that every new victim would give him this renewal surge of strength. It made him feel alive in more ways than he felt when he had been human. The more blood he engorged on, the more powerful he felt and the more his senses became acute.

It was certainly a whole new world in this perspective.

Yet, while a part of him thrived on this new change, a part of him was also horrified that his first victim had been Christiana. Since that night, Erik had not touched a single piece of music nor had he continued his Opera Ghost hauntings. He did not feel the inspiration to compose not when she had been his muse. It would appear that music was losing favor in his eyes.

And when he heard the replacement singer for Christiana—singing what should have been her role—Erik destroyed his organ and violin, smashing the instruments like they were nothing and burned all his scores. He could not write another piece of music not when it was not Christiana's voice that would be singing. The music was all for her and all that remained was the poor excuse of an opera he had left for the production to perform.

No… no more music.

Not when it should be his penance for snatching an angel before her prime.

But Erik was a man of creativity and ingenuity. Something had to take its place to fuel that drive and he found it in his new craving for blood and death.

He had to be careful. He couldn't keep leaving his discarded waste or else he might get caught.

Another precaution he had to take was the number of people he fed on per night.

He was starting to recognize how much blood he needed to survive and how the rest was only for enjoyment. He would have to stop killing for the joy of it and focus on killing for his survival.

Erik would see how many days he would last before the hunger would overwhelm him. That and he were learning that not all blood was the same or equal in its potency. However, the younger they were and the healthiest would keep him occupied for a while. And even people in their prime were just as filling as the youth. Not to mention that purity was at the top of the list, but finding someone that pure on the streets was next to impossible.

But it was definitely a treat if Erik came across one.

His new tactic was to lure his victims back to his house where he could play with them before feeding. It started with a simple kidnapping—knocking them unconsciousness—but later Erik discovered he could control them with his words.

With a command, the poor souls would willingly follow him to his house on the lake where he would make his guests comfortable (being bound of course) and when it was time, he would Change and thus listen to their musical screams.

The knowledge of the demon possessing him was always there. It was the only way to describe the feelings he had. But to see it firsthand came when Erik passed a store window while stalking a potential prey and he saw what he became when the hunger came over him.

It was startling to say the least that he abandoned the chase.

Now… he was truly a monster.

The man in him was horrified by this, but the demon was furious that it missed out on the hunt. It demanded blood in return and Erik fulfilled the request by taking two young adolescents.

Their deaths brought little happiness to him, but the demon was appeased with the gesture.

God help him… he needed help.

**Next: Bloodlust 2**—Erik's bloodlust continues and the news of the murders reach a familiar visitor.


	3. Bloodlust II

A/N: I want to say thank you to Taria Robotnik for being a loyal reader! Thanks for sticking with me during The Blood's Desire and on this one too! Your reviews always brighten my days!

I have the third part to this arc almost done and will post that as soon as I can. Then I have some E/C stories coming after this. Please don't forget to review!

_Synopsis—Nadir hears about the murders in Paris and suspects his old friend might have something to do with it…_

**Bloodlust 2**

Months passed and the bloodlust in Erik was growing more out of control. He tried not to go out but the temptation was too much and punishment for refusing the demon led to unsavory and messy results.

His attempts to harm himself led nowhere for the demon had no intention of ever being destroyed. If anything, these attempts pushed his endurance on how much pain he could take before abandoning them.

The demon would not lose and Erik was seeing how it was a pointless cause.

He could not kill himself so his options were limited:

Either he accepted this bloody lifestyle and work on having control over his lust or wait for someone who would do the job and kill him.

xxXXxx

When Nadir heard of the murders, his first thought—_No, it couldn't be possible. Not in Paris._

But the more news he heard, his suspicions were confirmed.

Vampire.

A creature he believed only existed in his precious Persia was now in Paris. His sense of duty blazed within him and he vowed he wouldn't rest until the monster was found and destroyed.

He owed it to his adopted city and as he gathered newspaper articles to search for a pattern of the killings—Nadir discovered the first death was that of Christiana Danvers.

This was remarkable since she was the very same soprano who captured Erik's heart. Nadir had been thrilled that his old friend found love, but at the time, he pitied him. Erik knew nothing of the ways to win a woman's heart and it was impossible for him to meet her since he refused to venture out into the world of man. Nadir knew he would be doomed to love her from a distance and as long as it kept him out of trouble…

But she was dead.

And so was her lover.

Erik's heart would be broken to hear such news, but as he continued reading, he was mortified to learn that the lover had been mutilated. The police first suspected a jealous paramour, but after the other murders… they were thinking twice, especially when the singer was found with little blood left in her.

Yet… a vampire did not discriminate its victims and it would not be surprising that she would wind up as another casualty. Although, the chances could be slim to none and it was coincidental.

But there was still the matter of the lover. Yes, vampires suffered through a bloodlust that was spurred on by the inner demon and it would often lead into a messy kill… but this seemed personal.

It was difficult, but Nadir managed to get a copy of the police and coroner's reports on Christiana Danvers and the stagehand—Pierre Verdon—and he was able to see pictures of the crime scene. They were explicit and bloody and he was given a strange look by the young man he bribed. The officer had been pale when he handed the portfolio over. Just the thought of it… made him ill to his stomach.

As for Nadir… it was nothing new. He had been the head dargoa of the Shah's secret police and when he had been granted the office of being a Hunter of the Undead… Nadir had seen (and smelled) all sorts of leftovers that were left behind. The photos did not affect him and he scrutinized them closely for some clue that the Paris' finest missed.

He concluded that Verdon's death was indeed a personal one, especially with the intention of leaving nothing behind for identity. The violence done to him suggested that much and according to the report… there was evidence of dried semen on one of his thighs and the soprano's; obviously, their relationship was anything but platonic. But the singer's body was unscathed… for the most part. Her throat was ripped out, but the rest of her body was untouched. If anything, Nadir would say the minor damage done to her was a sign of tenderness.

Clearly, the vampire did not want to hurt her as much as he did to the lover.

Maybe it was a kindness if the vampire knew her.

Or even loved her.

As immediate as the thought arose in his head, the Persian could not prevent the notion from entering.

Yes… those odds would be extremely high for Miss Danvers if someone knew her was involved. Someone with a personal connection who perhaps did not have much social interaction with the outside world… someone who would choose to stick to the shadows and watch without interfering… someone who might have worked up the nerve to approach his love to only discover she was not who he thought she was…

Someone like…

Nadir justified it as another friendly call to an old friend. He was going to see how Erik was doing and if there were any unusual changes that occurred… That's all. A simple house call and maybe a cup of tea over insults and reminiscing of the old days…

And if his suspicions proved to be correct—well, Nadir had no choice. It was his solemn duty… his calling.

He must do what he must to protect the innocent people.

Nadir went below the Opera house and what he discovered… he nearly wept for his old friend.

There were heaping piles and piles of bodies along the shoreline. The stench of decaying bodies was so rancid and putrid that even his handkerchief could not provide much relief when he covered his mouth and nose. How it did not reach the upper levels was amazing and explained why this was not discovered sooner… but he realized that Erik was disposing the bodies into the underground lake. One look over the boat and Nadir was greeted with the horrified expressions of the unfortunate victims starring up from their watery graves.

This was not Erik's usual self-defense traps to protect himself from discovery. This was a feeding ground.

As the boat touched the sandy shore, Nadir drew his pistol and cocked it so it was ready to be fired. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the silver cross and held it tight in his fist as he approached the front door to Erik's home.

He maintained a stoic look, the hunter in him taking over, preparing himself for what he must do. His old friend was not his friend anymore… no… a soulless monster ruled him now and he had to stop him for good… to put his soul to rest.

Nadir kicked in the door and…

Emptiness greeted him.

But it still shocked him to find the neat and tidied home had been destroyed. Furniture was overturned, papers and books scattered all about, the priceless decorations in shambles and broken pieces… as if a tornado went through. Even Erik's prized organ had been bludgeoned, the keys smashed, the pipes bent and falling over.

There had been a struggle all right.

Nadir searched the rest of the house and found all the other rooms in a similar fashion. The only room that escaped the path of destruction was Erik's bedroom. All that was left was his coffin bed.

Erik was not here (either that was a relief or not, Nadir could not decide) and he found no traces of ash or a charred body to hint that a vampire had been killed.

Erik did this to his home but for what reason?

The hunter in him ignored that question for it was irrelevant. All that mattered was that the creature escaped and was on the loose. And Allah helped those who crossed the demon's path.

Nadir crossed himself and murmured a quick prayer for the next soul that would be devoured by the demon.

So the only thing left to do was give those trapped down here a proper burial. It would be a laborious task… one that would take Nadir several weeks, but eventually he did the best to help those tortured souls. All the while he kept his ears opened for news of Erik and his return.

For he knew Erik would return to Paris. The vampire always returns to its birthplace and when it does…

Nadir will be waiting.

**Next: Bloodlust 3—Erik's travels abroad and meets up with an old enemy from Persia…**


	4. Bloodlust III

A/N: So… I wasn't able to post this as quickly as I liked. I've been working extra hours and have been so tired that I wasn't in the mood to do any writing or editing for that matter. But I did finish this last story for this particular arc! For this next part, again please note the M rating of this story. This will feature torture and more violence, in particular involving a minor. So please read at your discretion. Thanks and don't forget to review!

_Synopsis—Erik travels to various countries, leaving behind more bodies in the demon's wake, but ends up in Persia where he has a score to settle with an old enemy._

**Bloodlust 3**

Erik had to leave Paris.

There was too much blood and death in his memories and leaving seemed like the only choice.

Traveling was difficult in his new state, but he was anything if not adaptable. Erik found ways during the night to go from city to city, town to town. His unnatural speed allowed the distances to blur and not take as long to cover when he had been a normal man. Then again… Erik was never normal, but at least he had more of a good reason to travel at night.

During the day Erik sought shelter in homes where he compelled the owners to invite him in. Their reward was granted when he woke—providing a swift, painless death with their blood donation. He never stayed long to learn what happened afterwards and he dared not listen to gossip or news.

Yet, as further as Erik went, a part of him still longed for Paris and what he left behind. But the pain of losing Christiana was still too fresh… he couldn't return now.

For now, he settled on his journeys and left behind a sampling of the local cuisine from where he traveled—sometimes hiding or leaving the bodies out so the fear would spread. The demon enjoyed the chaos and it stirred the blood of those it fed that were already frightened of the beast of the night.

For the next two years, Erik traveled to Spain, Portugal, Germany, Belgium, Austria, Poland, Romania, and various European countries. Eventually, he found himself back in Italy and later in Rome. It didn't take long for him to learn of his old mentor's death and it deeply saddened him to hear the terrible news.

A part of him wondered if Luciana had something to do with it.

Just the mere thought of her name sent the demon in him with such rage. She was the reason why he craved so much blood. Instead of gratitude and loyalty that a Childe might have for its Maker, Erik only felt hatred and murderous anger. If he crossed paths with Luciana, he wouldn't hesitate in killing her and this time… she would stay dead.

Perhaps that's why he was traveling for so long and far.

He wanted to find his Creator and destroy her for taking away all that was precious to him and enslaving him to the night and human blood. The idea thrilled the demon and it longed for such a satisfying confrontation that it would undoubtedly unleash.

However, Luciana was not in Rome. Nor was she anywhere else for that mattered.

It would appear that she disappeared from the face of the earth… but it would be later… much later that Luciana and Erik would meet. The circumstances would be somewhat ironic and the end…

Well, that is another story for a later time.

For now, Erik knew in his gut that Luciana was alive—_existed_—and when he finds her… he will make her pay for the Hell she put him through.

xxXXxx

While it was natural and fitting for Erik to end up in Rome, it was now quite fitting that he traced his steps back to Persia.

He was growing weary and his patience was running dry from the failing attempt in locating Luciana. So when he could not enact his revenge on her…

He knew of another he wanted to seek out with a surprise visit.

The palace hadn't changed much since the last time he was there, back when he was in favor of the Shah and after the khanum wanted his head on a silver platter.

The only difference was him… he had changed dramatically and in a twisted way, he had to thank Luciana for his new enhanced abilities. Not that he would want to admit that aloud or to her.

Sneaking into the palace was too easy and Erik was able to find his way to the khanum's chambers without detecting attention.

All he had to do was follow the trail of power, arrogance, and death.

It was the first time Erik actually was inside her rooms; previously their meetings were conducted in the throne room, the torture chamber, and the dining room. Of course, he was not at all surprised to find her rooms to be just as luxurious as her expensive taste and everything was exquisite and seductive.

Cool, silk sheets of red and cream danced across the bed, floating curtains, soft rugs, and tasseled pillows revealed a sensual and comfortable environment. Even the air was spiced with perfume and other aromas with its sultry and luring call. But beneath that entire exterior laid a darkness so revolting and hideous that the next bit of decoration would be a stark contrast to the rest of the room.

The khanum did not hide her thirst for blood or her love of torture not with the plethora of weapons at her disposal on displayed: whips, daggers, axes, lassoes, sabres, spikes, shackles, and other torturous devices. She did have a gun but she rarely used it since the bullet was quicker to kill the intended instead of drawing out their suffering.

Erik had it on good authority that she enjoyed a good bout of torture before retiring. So he stepped out onto the balcony, keeping himself hidden in the shadows and away from the moon's glare. There he waited for her to keep her nightly appointment.

He did not have to wait long.

From his hiding spot, he observed a guard bringing in the new victim—a young girl no more than fourteen—inside. She was already sniffling and quietly weeping for she knew what her fate was going to be. She didn't even try to beg for help from the guard.

Erik admired that and he thought about killing the guard and freeing the girl. Depraving the khanum of her fun would be tempting, but he knew from past experiences that the girl would suffer tenfold if she survived and he would be doing her a great kindness if he did not interfere.

The guard had her wrists tied and her arms lifted in the air by the rope. He tied off the end to a tiny pole so the rope was tight and kept her suspended. He finished by shackling her feet so she could not kick out just as the khanum entered.

The years had been kind to her, although she was older; the "little sultana" still maintained her beauty. Erik could not stop himself from gazing at her figure and noticing how soft her brown skin looked from the flickering fire. However, there were tiny flaws that were exposed and ones she could not hide. She had wrinkles around her eyes, cheeks, and mouth to indicate her age and her long, black hair was stiff and smelled of dye to keep the gray from showing. But there was no mistaken her brown eyes so cold and malignant and darkening with the heightened anticipation of pleasure that would take place soon.

She circled her prey slowly, inspecting her closely and nodded her approval.

Waving the guard away so he could take his post, the khanum reached out and ripped away the rags that kept the girl clothed. Instantly, she was naked and the chill in the air had its immediate effect as she trembled and bumps appeared on her flesh. Seeing her quiver aroused the older woman and her tongue darted out to wet her lips at the sight of her smooth and untouched skin.

Not a single blemish or mark was to be found.

Oh yes… she was the ideal candidate and for that… she would suffer greatly.

The khanum ran her hands all over the girl's body, feeling and caressing the flesh, her façade locked in deep concentration as she envisioned what she should do. The intrusive violation caused the girl to continue her sobbing, but she bit down hard on her lip to keep from making a sound… so hard that Erik could smell the tiny bit of blood.

Then the khanum left the girl and walked over to her wall of horrors and reached for a whip.

This was not an ordinary whip either… at the end were three tails and each had a triangular head.

An invention of the khanum's no doubt.

When she turned with her weapon of choice, the young girl could no longer keep her silent vigil and started to wail and moan as she pulled on her restraints.

The pleased look began to wipe away as the khanum's brow narrowed. She backhanded the girl across the cheek.

"Silence!" the khanum ordered, the command coming out like a hiss. When only a quiet whimper emerged, the khanum smiled and nodded that this was suitable. "Good…" she cooed. "That's much better."

She began to circle her again, and all the while, she bided her time so to make the suspense unbearable for the poor thing as she tightened her body to prepare for the blow that was soon to come.

"Look at you my Desert Rose," she said in that condescending tone. "So young… so perfect. I have never seen someone at your age with such flawless beauty. I can only imagine that you drive those poor men out of their wits with that innocent visage. But then again… perhaps you are not as innocent as you like them to believe. Perhaps you are no better than the whores in my son's harem."

Without warning, the whip was brought down on her chest, slicing her right breast opened. The khanum raised it again and hit her stomach and hips, the sharp heads dragging over as much flesh as it could touch.

Blood filled the air and the demon growled with need.

Despite the khanum's insinuation, the girl's blood was pure. Virginal pure.

The whip whirled around and slashed at her backside this time. The girl screamed loud and long, gasping for air once the whip was lifted from her skin only for it to come back down again. After a few more hits, the khanum ceased the whippings and went back for a new choice.

The girl was bleeding all over and her back was stripped a quarter of her skin off. She didn't bother to muffle her cries as she screamed and wept at the same time.

This time… clamps were provided to keep the girl's mouth wide opened.

"Stick out your tongue," the khanum demanded. "Come on. I want to see that pretty little tongue of yours."

When the girl didn't obey, the khanum pulled on the clamps so it stretched out her mouth even more, slicing the skin.

At last, the girl did what she was told and the khanum seized it with a tiny pair of pliers and pulled a small dagger from her pocket.

"Since you cannot keep quiet… I will do it for you."

The knife was slow and cruel, taking its time as it went into her tongue. When the task was completed, the girl's soul decided to depart when the shock came too much for her to handle.

This was unexpected and the khanum could only stare at the lifeless form now before releasing a scream of outrage. The guard was called in and the khanum was not to be pacified as she accused him for picking a weakling for her activity. She still had more planned for the girl and now that her death was too soon… the guard would have to take her place.

He did not betray a single emotion when the khanum said he was going to have to stand in the girl's place. It was a punishment that he saw coming when he heard the sultana scream.

Another guard was brought in and he was responsible for getting rid of the girl's corpse and for securing his fellow friend into the shackles and rope. When the guard was ready, the khanum took her time and was delighted that he lasted an hour before he died.

With the bloodlust fulfilled for now, she was ready to retire.

Shedding her bloody robes for clean, white ones, the khanum laid down and fell asleep.

Seeing his opportune moment, Erik crept towards the bed. Years ago he had lusted for his mistress, willing to please her, but the admiration turned into contempt and he wanted her to know the real meaning of desperation and the urge to plead for death. As his shadow loomed over her, Erik clasped a hand over her mouth, promptly waking her up.

The demon was already in place and he looked into her eyes and murmured in his silky voice, "You will follow me and you will not speak. Not a sound should I hear from those disgusting lips."

Nothing could compare with the thrill he felt when she obeyed his every command. As he walked out into the hall, she was at his heels in her silent submission.

Whenever a guard came near them, Erik broke his neck and left the body where it fell. There was no time to hide and he would be gone before the alarm would ring.

Erik took her to his torture chamber, his former pride and joy.

Turning to the khanum, Erik spoke:

"I thought about repaying you the same way you did to me and to your subjects. Flesh for flesh, blood for blood. But then I thought—you would probably enjoy it. Where's the lesson in that? But this…" he motioned to the chamber. "Your dream, your vision… This would be much more fitting. Quite poetic don't you agree?"

Staring deeply into her eyes once more, Erik gave his final command.

"Go into the chamber. Once you're in and the door is secured you will be free to speak; however, you cannot escape the chamber. If someone tries to save you—you will not leave that room. You will remain there until I say you can leave."

Like the mindless puppet, she did what she was told and once the door was barred… Erik turned the chamber on and immediately her screams for help began.

By the time her screams were finally heard, the guards rushed in to find their mistress trapped in the torture chamber.

Erik was gone.

From within, she shouted about a demon from Hell and how **he **put her in here and she had to escape because it was getting hot… too hot…

The loyal guards found the trapped door that would allow her to exit, but their attempts were futile. The khanum could not leave the room. It was as if an invisible barrier was in place to keep her from passing through.

So they had no choice but to watch and wait as the khanum burned alive—a new addition that was created in case the victim survived the heat and noose.

When the room was free to enter, the puzzling story that spread was how, even in death, the khanum's body refused to leave the chamber.

**Next: The Beginning of the End—Christine was shot… what happened after? **


	5. The Beginning of the End

A/N: I apologize for the tardiness of this chapter. I know this was the scene that everyone has been waiting for since I finished _The Blood's Desire_. I would have updated this sooner, but real life got in the way and I was working on my other story, _My Ghost (Love) Story_. So here we go! Better late than never, right? And it's not abandoned… I still have ideas for these two and company.

_Synopsis—Christine was shot… and Erik desperately tries to save her._

**The Beginning of the End**

There was no thought but the need to protect the one she loved.

Taking the bullet that was meant for Erik was so obvious that the outcome of death never crossed her mind. All Christine had to do was take a step to the side that put her in front of the target and the entry was immediate.

Pain, unbearable pain, surged through her body… her nerves all alive with that internal fire spreading rapidly.

As she fell to the ground, she was captured by the man she loved. Her first thought was—_huh, not where I thought it would hit._ She thought maybe the bullet would hit her thigh or her shoulder… but her stomach? That was surprising.

But once again, the idea of death did not seem a likely option.

People get shot all the time and most survive to live another day.

She will survive… she had to…

The pain grew and Christine was gasping for breath.

Frantic voices were all around her, an agonizing wail in the background. There was pressure at her stomach—someone was trying to stop the blood flow—but Christine knew it was futile.

All that pain… all that blood rushing out of her system… she wasn't going to live. Not when that bullet had been made of silver and she had drunk Erik's blood. The poison would certainly kill her if the wound does not.

It was definitely not the way she pictured herself when she died, but then again, who can predict the moment they die?

At least she was with Erik one last time.

At least she told him she loved him.

Too bad she had to break her promise about never leaving him…

Faint.

Everything was getting fainter now and her struggles started to weaken.

_Surrender_, a voice whispers. _Surrender_.

_Yes_, she thought back.

There was one last stab of pain as if a part of her was ripped out and at last Christine closed her eyes and succumbed to the voices in the darkness.

xxXXxx

Consciousness began to return bit by bit.

Christine felt groggy, but the feeling didn't last long and she felt sensation in her limbs, but there was no pain when she moved.

Odd…

She distinctly remembered pain.

Then realization dawned on her—pain, dying, and darkness—she died but why did she feel like she was alive?

Christine pushed herself up on her arms and saw she was in the basement again. Her clothes were stained with blood and as she lifted her shirt—all she saw was the smooth planes of her stomach.

No wound, no bullet.

Only the blood on her clothes was the evidence that revealed she had been shot.

Her hand flew to her chest and her eyes widened in shock when she _felt no heartbeat_.

That would mean…

Christine gasped when she saw Erik sitting at the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on her as he patiently waited for her to make the conclusion.

"Am I—" she started. Her voice was raspy and high, but it was more of a reaction to the moment. "—I am," she finished when she saw the slight nod of his head.

"Yes," he said. "You are like me now. Oh Christine! I never wanted—I thought—"

But his words died when she threw herself at him, kissing him breathlessly. Of course, they didn't need to breathe, but for Christine, the feeling was new and strange and when she pulled away, sucking in air, it was more of a habit than anything.

"Christine," Erik moaned and he cupped her cheek. "I need to know—how do you feel?"

How did she feel?

It was a loaded question if she had to be honest. But there was no way to describe the feeling… except she could feel everything! That one taste of her lover instantly had her heated, aroused, and wet all at once that she wanted to straddle him and ride him hard—but at the same time there was a low growl in the pit of her stomach.

She was hungry.

Dreadfully hungry.

Erik saw it reflected in her eyes and did not start when her face began to change on instinct.

Like his demon, hers was shocking and frightening, but it was still his Christine.

Her forehead had heightened the bone as it jutted out to create a ridge across her brow; even her cheekbones became pronounced as they lifted and made her features sharp rather than soft and feminine; her mouth was red, her teeth white as pearls, but her incisors looked to be deadly foes as they extended to graze her lower lip; and lastly, her eyes—blue in her human form—were now a golden hue, bright and fiery and possessing with a single stare.

There was no denying the hungry look within them and Erik suppressed the groan that was threatening to slip.

There would be time later for them to explore each other in this new state of senses and passion.

For now, his demonic Angel needed sustenance.

Erik raised himself from the bed and extended his hand towards her as his face began to Change into his demon.

"Come," he said in that rich baritone of promising heat. "We will hunt."

**Next: The Hunt—Erik teaches Christine how a vampire feeds and she finds herself doing something she never thought she would do…**


	6. The Hunt

AN: All right… for this one, it might sound a little like Twilight, but do not think for a second that E/C will have an Edward/Bella relationship. Hell no! Because they are not like them and I intend to make it complicated. And let's face it… they're vampires. They can't always have self-control. That was the one thing that bothered me when Bella turned. Read on and please don't forget to review!

_Synopsis—Erik takes Christine out hunting for the first time. Christine does something that she never thought she would do…_

**The Hunt**

It was quite fortunate that when Erik found this place it was near a forest. He knew Christine would feel guilty if she hurt another human and he wouldn't subject her to that feeling.

Then again… he didn't know if she would take well from animal blood or not. As for him, the demon wasn't exactly happy at the prospect and hoped its mate would indulge in human blood. But the demon knew this might suit her well and it bottled up its indignation this time.

Erik explained to her about the demon's natural instinct and that listening to it would ensure survival and protection.

"It will either encourage the hunt or tell you to abandon it if it might be dangerous. As much as I loathe it, it has saved my neck too many times to count."

"All right. But I doubt Bambi will turn the tables on me… but I will stay alert," Christine said with a teasing grin. "Then what?"

"The demon likes to chase so make sure you find a prey that will satisfy that desire. Otherwise, the feed won't be as gratifying."

She nodded. So far… it sounded easy. "What's the catch?"

Erik smiled. "With animals… there isn't. You're far more dangerous than them. But I'm warning you, this may not be thrilling."

"I think I'll be okay." Christine rubbed her hands together. "Let's do this. I'm starving!"

Erik smirked and started running. He paused for a second to let her catch up and Christine ended up running past him. Growling, he pushed off after her.

Christine loved that she could run like this. She never felt freer in her life and everything was like seeing the world through new eyes like a newborn.

And in many ways… she was like a newborn.

There were so many scents and sounds that surrounded her, but there was one sound that captured her attention.

Slowing her speed, Christine caught sight of a deer up ahead. She was in awe at seeing one about a hundred feet away and so far… it did not sensed her.

And it did not sense that it was in danger.

Her demon was rejoicing at this meal, but it was a partial rejoice. The demon knew this wasn't going to be a challenge and it felt… disappointed.

Christine shook it away and focused on the task of approaching the deer quietly. Using the trees as a shield, she darted from one to another to keep herself hidden from its sight. When she was about twenty feet away, she could smell the blood and it was not what she expected.

If anything… the deer's blood smelled revolting.

But she couldn't focus on that now. She needed blood and this was how she was going to get that nourishment.

The kill was clean and perfect.

Christine launched herself at the deer, grabbing and using her strength… she broke its neck. As the carcass was now in her hands, Christine bit into the throat and began to drink.

The first pull had her grimacing and she almost wanted to spit it up. The second taste was just as bitter and the smell was so terrible that Christine could feel herself start to gag. But she needed the blood. She had to do this.

She had to.

Swallowing as much as she could, Christine stopped and stood on her feet and looked up at Erik.

He had watched the entire scene and said nothing until she was done. Just with one look, he knew the kill was not satisfying to her.

"I know what you mean now when you said it wouldn't be thrilling," Christine said. "My demon hates deer blood."

"It will take some getting used to," he said. "This was only your first kill."

"Yes… but it wasn't challenging enough." Christine pouted. She wanted her first steps into this new life to be thrilling and so far… it was a bit of a letdown. Erik sensed her disappointment and tried to make it up by taking her deeper into the woods for bigger game.

Instead, she killed a moose, a couple of rabbits, a buck, and even a mountain lion… but none of them satisfied her bloodlust or the demon's hunger. The only thing the demon wanted… _whispered _was for human blood. While the thought now seemed extremely appealing, Christine didn't want to take a person's life.

In this new form, she still had her old memories and feelings about the murders of those young women. Not to mention her endless arguments with Raoul and Nadir about how she could help Erik control the beast and prevent people from dying. The idea still disgusted her, but with the demon in her ear… Christine was conflicted.

If she killed a human and drank his or her blood… that made her no better than any murderer and if her friends knew…

She didn't want to imagine their horror or what they might do to them.

Her demon understood her concerns, but the voice had no words of comfort:

_If they turn against you… then you know what must be done. You need to protect yourself and your mate. At any cost you must protect your livelihood even if it means spilling the blood of those you loved._

Reluctantly, Christine agreed. Her survival and Erik's was all that mattered and if it came down to it… she would do anything to protect the man she loved. Now she understood Erik's predicament and the lengths he took to ensure her protection. She felt ashamed for running off the way she did and for her turning her back on him. If only she didn't let others rule her emotions for him.

But it was all in the past. She was with Erik now and forever. What was done was done and she couldn't continue to feel regret for her past decisions. Yet, her demon did feel some remorse at the thought of hurting her mate.

_Not anymore_, Christine decided. _Those days of hurting Erik are long gone. I know where my loyalties stand and that will never change._

The hunt was not as productive or filling as both had hoped and without words needed to be spoken, Erik took Christine's hand and led her back to the house.

Once they were nestled within the safety of the darkness, Christine gave voice to everything she felt. She told Erik how she understood his motives and his actions and she apologized for condemning him and from denying him as long as she did. The last thing she wanted to do was inflict pain on him and that despite everything that had happened… she loved him and always will.

Now, her love for him as only grown deeper and her admiration and respect has increased tenfold.

She got it now. She finally understood the plights he suffered and she was so sorry for what she done…

Their lovemaking was frantic and fierce… but there was a renewed sense of love between them. They both reached a mutual understanding and when Erik gazed upon her demonic visage with his… it all clicked. Nothing else needed to be said.

The time to put aside their fears and doubts was now. The past was behind them and what they have now was to embrace their future with one another.

xxXXxx

The next night Christine told Erik she was ready to leave. Gathering the little belongings they had, they got into the car and drove off.

Where… neither of them had an exact location in mind.

It was a couple of hours into their drive when Christine rolled down her window and took a deep breath of the night air and her senses were immediately on alert. There was blood out there and her demon growled with automatic need.

Erik smelled it too and gazed over at his love. She nodded her head and he drove the car off to the side of the road, making sure it could not be spotted by others.

Once it was in parked, Christine was out with her head lifted towards the heavens, her nostrils flaring at the sweet aroma. Erik watched her with utter adoration and while his demon was ready to go… _they _both knew they had to let their mate do it.

Christine stole off into the wooded area, her nose and demon guiding her on the twisted and rocky path. Erik wasn't far off, following but not standing in her way of her thirst. Her demon roared in delight that her mate had so much faith in her and was granting her this gift.

Five miles ahead, Christine was in the right direction and the loud thumping echoed in her ears.

Close… so close.

The hunt was on.

TBC…

**Next- The Hunt II—Christine unleashes her demon and finds enjoyment with the chaos. **


	7. The Hunt II

A/N: I'm on a roll here! I felt so inspired that I had this get one uploaded right away. Enjoy and don't forget… keep the rating in mind and after all… this is a vampire story. Please review!

_Synopsis—Christine's first attempt at hunting ended unsatisfying. Now… she will unleash her demon and see how wonderful the results can be._

**The Hunt II**

This was unlike anything she ever experienced before.

The titillating sensations combined with the ultimate satisfaction of what awaited her at the end of the trail warmed her body and she heard Erik's whimper from a distance.

He smelled her arousal and it excited him just as much as it excited her.

_Soon_, her mind whispered. _But first things first._

She came upon the scene, making sure she blended into the foliage so not to be discovered, and took the moment to observe.

A young girl… no older than eighteen… was tied up against a tree. Her blonde hair was covered in dirt and caked with dried blood. Her face was pale and streaked with tears, her mouth bound with a dirty rag to keep her from screaming. But it didn't stop her from sobbing as the man approached her.

He was slightly heavy, putrid and foul, as his perspiration poisoned the air around them. He came upon his victim, his hand reaching out in a mockingly touch of tenderness as he stroked her hair.

"There… there… my pretty," he whispered. "Don't cry. Don't cry. It'll be over soon. I promise. You understand I had to do this, right? I couldn't have you running off. No, no. Oh… you're so gorgeous you know… Oh fuck… do you have any idea what you done to me? Prancing about on the side of the road like some bitch in heat. Christ, you women love to torture us fucking men and when we try to go to you… you run away. Why? What have I done to earn such rejection? You want it… yes you do… I can see it… but not with me… no, no… never one like me."

He growled out the last word in contempt as his large hands reached for the young girl's chest.

Her scream was lost in its gag, but the man coiled away as if he was slapped. Then angrily, he struck her across the face, the force causing her head to snap and hit the tree hard. Her form slumped against the bark and the man began cursing and muttering to himself.

"Fine! Pass out! That's better isn't it? Well, you made the wrong decision. No… no… no!"

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife. "You left me with no choice you no good dirty whore—"

_Snap!_

The man turned around, the knife poised to strike, as he looked out into the trees. Seeing nothing, he relaxed but his body was on edge. His arm trembled and the stench of his sweat continued to cloud the area.

Returning back to the girl, he held the knife by her throat and pressed the tip into her flesh, letting a little of her blood to spill.

He shook as the sight excited him.

_Snap… crunch… snap…_

He looked over his right shoulder, peering out.

"What the—?" he started to say as two glowing pools of amber stared back. He never saw Christine coming from the left…

xxXXxx

While Erik distracted the vile creature, Christine lunged at him… tackling him to the earthen ground, slamming his open mouth into the dirt and leaves. She tossed her head back, her curls cascading down her back as her face transformed into her demon. Before she swooped in, she wanted him to see who it was that was about to kill him.

The horror was entirely delicious as the man began to scream at the monster from Hell. The demon within her purred with extreme pleasure that this piece of scum was frightened of her… if it weren't for the screams, then there was the stench of urine that only made it all the more enjoyable.

His screams continued to echo into the lonely night as her fangs dove into his throat, ripping the flesh and guzzling the blood from his veins.

This was what she needed… the warmth and life of human blood, so fresh and so sweet like honey. Christine never knew that blood could taste this good, but then again, as a human… her taste-buds didn't agree the metallic taste would be something to feed on a daily basis.

While her demon was rejoicing in the kill, Christine didn't find herself to be guilty at all.

No… this man deserved what was coming to him. She didn't want to imagine what he might have done to that poor girl if she hadn't intervened.

It was perverse form of justice and it made perfect sense in the demon's logic. The man believed to be the better predator in attacking younger girls and it turned out… he wasn't the big game like he thought. No… he could be the prey to another predator altogether.

Maybe… just maybe… there was a gray area after all when it came to the act of murder. But it wasn't murder alone… this man's death was needed to keep her nourished.

"Well?" Erik's voice interrupted her and she lifted her pale chin towards him, her mouth dripping with crimson blood. "How do you feel, my love?"

"Better," she replied with a hellish grin. "I see why you like human blood now."

"That's not what I mean," he told her. "How do you feel?"

She looked down at the body, more blood was left in him… she could smell it. "Not as bad I thought I would be. Maybe because he was a bastard and he was going to harm that girl over there. I couldn't let him live."

"I see." So his newborn love had an appetite for criminals it would seem. This would definitely work and no more deer blood or animal blood of any kind. That made his demon happy.

"There's plenty left," she added, nodding to the kill.

"No… this is yours. Take as most as you can from your first successful kill."

She didn't have to be told twice as Christine continued to drain him dry.

xxXXxx

Tina Wilson always lived recklessly.

Ever since she was a small child, she would find herself in all sorts of trouble. When she was only eight, she ran away to punish her parents for not buying this Barbie doll she wanted. In fact, it wasn't the first time she ran away from home to get something she wanted or to prove to her parents that they couldn't live without her.

Being an only child would do that to parents, especially when they were told they might not ever have children.

She knew how much of a miracle she was to them and she used it to her advantage. It wasn't her fault, really. If only they hadn't gone on and on about how she was their precious little angel and how she was their reward from a loving and powerful God.

No… she wasn't to blame anyways.

Now that she was eighteen, finally an adult in the law's eyes, Tina told her parents adios. If she wanted to stay all night and party… then she can and no curfew was going to keep her from returning.

They bent to her so quick, sniffling and begging for her to come home at a reasonable hour. For a couple of old pushovers, Tina wasn't going to move out completely. No… she had a good home and she wasn't going to be made to work for a living so why ruin a good thing? But if she wanted to hang out with her friends… then she was and no one could tell her otherwise.

Of course, if she hadn't left the house and had those five beers (and puffed a decent sized joint), then she wouldn't have decided to go for a moonlight walk. She didn't tell her friends where she was going or that she was even leaving. She felt so alive and so free that she gazed at the moon and stars with such childlike wonder that a crazy idea popped in her head… what if she walked to the highest point in the forest and reached out to the stars? She bet she could touch them, maybe even take one home as a keepsake for her liberation.

Such a brilliant idea at the time.

How would she have known that she was being followed? That when the fugly, overweight son of a gun pulled over and asked if he could take her somewhere… she figured his truck would be faster than her walking… that he had something else in mind?

Now, she was tied up against a tree and was more than likely going to be raped and killed out here and no one… absolutely no one would know what happened to her. The truth of her horrific reality sobered her instantly and when he knocked her out… Tina welcomed the dark oblivion.

She didn't want to see what he would do to her.

Unfortunately, the Fates would not be so kind and her unconsciousness state didn't last long.

As Tina began to regain her senses, she was shocked to find she was still alive and her clothes were still on her. Then her body froze when she heard this ungodly smacking sound coming about several feet in front of her.

A low groan came from the darkness and then the heady scent of copper surrounded her, causing her to gag.

Another groan… followed by a growl sent her heart in wild palpitations.

Was that…?

There were rumors of mountain lions roaming the Maine woods, but Tina never saw one and neither did anyone else she knew.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She was saved only to be ripped and eaten alive by a wild animal.

_God! Oh God… if you're out there… please! Please save me! I swear I won't disobey my parents ever again! I won't curse, I won't drink, I won't even smoke weed anymore! Just please let me live! I want to live! Don't make me die… I don't wanna die!_

There was a crunching of the leaves and Tina opened one eye as a figure stood over the unmoving body of the man who tied her up.

"Oh God!" she wailed from her gag when she saw it was another person, not a mountain lion.

The figure began to walk towards her and Tina thrashed around, trying to break the bonds that kept her trapped. She was going to die after all… God forsaken her… her parent's precious little angel… their little miracle and reward… she was going to die and they won't know what happened to her. She would be left to rot in these woods forever and no one would ever find her…

"Take it easy," a soft, feminine voice murmured in her ear. "It's all right. You're going to be all right."

The voice was so kind… so gentle… and melodic that Tina felt herself suddenly at ease as the woman began to sing a little lullaby.

She felt warm… safe.

This woman wasn't going to harm her.

The wet gag was removed from her mouth and her arms fell to her side as she went down on her knees, freed from her restraints. Tina fisted the dirt and leaves, shaking uncontrollably, as she felt the ground and knew that the danger was over.

She was alive.

God be praised! She was alive!

Tina lifted her red-rimmed eyes to gaze upon her rescuer and could only see two amber orbs looking down at her.

But the smell…

She smelled blood on her savior's clothes and as Tina looked over to the fallen form… she saw another figure standing over the body. The light from the moon captured a glint of a mask…

"We have to take care of this," a man spoke, his voice dark and rich. "She has seen us feed."

"You're not suggesting we…? We can't!" the woman protested.

"Let me go!" Tina moaned. "I promise… I didn't see anything. I swear! I didn't see anything!"

"I didn't mean it like that, my dear," the man continued. "Although, I would rather preferred we did. But I know you would not like it."

"I wouldn't," the woman agreed. "No more innocent victims."

"Very well. I believe it's time for lesson number two _mon ange_."

Tina felt herself being lifted in the air and she began to kick and scream. But the wind was knocked out of her as her back slammed against the tree once more.

"Silence!" The man ordered. "This will work best if you do not struggle. Ah… that's better. My love?"

Tina fearfully glanced as the smaller figure approached from behind the man. The piercing golden eyes stared straight into her, keeping her still. The last thing Tina remembered was those two eyes before she faded back into the oblivion.

xxXXxx

When Tina woke, she couldn't explain how she was back at home, but there she was… lying in the backyard and it felt so good to be there.

She told her parents she was never going out again and that she wanted to go back to church and volunteer with her mother at the soup kitchen. As for her appearance… Tina told them that she was drunk and wasn't paying attention to where she was walking, but no more late nights or parties for her.

As the years passed, Tina could never understand what made her change her mind in the first place. The thought of being crazy and reckless no longer interested her and all she cared about was being the best daughter and making up for all the wrongs she had done.

But she didn't have much reason to look back and tried to remember the night that changed her life.

No…

She was about to have her own family and that was all that mattered.

**Next- Deleted Scene from Chapter 14—After their first kiss, Erik's reaction frightened Christine. Now, she is about to enter his apartment to talk to him about what happened. This is the missing conversation. **


End file.
